


Visiting Hours

by Kiraly



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Flash Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 03:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10376385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraly/pseuds/Kiraly
Summary: When Otabek gets injured, there's nothing on earth that will keep Yuri from his side. Especially not something as stupid as hospital regulations.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this week's [Synchronised Screaming](https://synchronisedscreaming.tumblr.com/) flash fic challenge.
> 
> Prompt: Yuri/Otabek, Visiting Hours
> 
> This takes place a few years after the events of season one - Yuri is probably 19 or so.

_ “Where is he?” _

The nurse leans back, putting as much distance between them as the desk allows. “Sir, you can’t see him now, visiting hours are—”

Yuri’s fingers tighten on the edge of the desk. “OTABEK. FUCKING. ALTIN. WHERE IS HE?” The tension has been building in him ever since the phone call, all through the frantic planning and the flight from Saint Petersburg. Now it threatens to explode out of him, and fuck anyone who gets in his way.

Fortunately, Yuri doesn’t have to dive over the desk and shake the nurse until she tells him what he wants to know, because another woman in hospital uniform arrives just as Yuri is spelling Otabek’s name for the third time. Her white coat marks her a doctor.

“Mister Plisetsky?” She eyes him up and down, seemingly unimpressed. “Come this way.” She takes brisk strides down the hall, not looking back to see if Yuri is following. He levels one more sneer at the desk nurse before trotting after her. She keeps talking as they walk.

“You’re the boyfriend? The family warned me you were coming. It’s completely against our regulations, you understand, but they assured me you would be the  _ soul of comfort  _ if we let you in to see him—” Yuri is touched that the Altin family would say something like that “—and that you’d raise hell if we kept you away.”

_ Oh. Well, they weren’t wrong.  _ “I’ll be a fucking—I’ll be an angel, I promise,” he says, trying to keep his voice down. “Just let me see him. They won’t—I haven’t heard how bad it is, I came straight from the airport.”

The doctor raises an eyebrow at the swearing, but she lets it slide. “The chest x-ray shows two cracked ribs. They’ll take a while to heal, but otherwise he should be fine. Minor contusions, a cut on his forehead that looks worse than it is. No spinal damage. We’re keeping him overnight for observation, but he should be able to go home tomorrow. He was very, very lucky.”

Yuri doesn’t need her to tell him that last part—he’s known, ever since he heard the words ‘motorcycle accident’, that this could have been so much worse. Cracked ribs are bad—they’ll keep him off the ice for a month at least, maybe more—but better those than a broken leg, or a back injury, or...Yuri can’t keep thinking down that road. 

“Here. He may be asleep, but if you can stay quiet and not disturb him, you can stay.” The doctor opens the door and ushers Yuri inside.

The first thing he notices is the smell: antiseptic, gauze, the other unnatural scents that cling to hospital rooms. The second is how pale Otabek looks, dark hair and bruises standing out against his skin. The mint green hospital gown is  _ not  _ a good color for him, either—not that Yuri looks much better, in his practice clothes with his hair falling out of a ponytail. But none of that is as important as the slow rise and fall of his chest, or his eyes—half-shadowed by a bandage—which flutter open when Yuri approaches.

“Beka,” he breathes. Then, when Otabek opens his eyes more fully, “Beka!” Yuri wants to fling himself down, catch Otabek in the tightest embrace imaginable. But cracked ribs and the watchful eyes of his escort prevent that, so he sinks onto the bedside chair and catches Otabek’s hand, instead. “Oh, Beka. What did you  _ do,  _ idiot?”

“Yura?” Otabek shifts, wincing in pain. “What are you doing here? The doctor said I will be fine, there was no need—”

“Like hell there wasn’t,” Yuri growls. He reaches up to brush the hair back from Otabek’s forehead, careful to avoid the bandage. “Your sister called and said you were in an accident, of  _ course  _ I came! What was I going to do, stay in Russia and practice my pirouette? No.” He hears the door click softly behind him; the doctor has gone. “Beka, I was so  _ scared.”  _

Otabek squeezes his fingers and offers a weak smile. “I’m sorry I worried you, Yura. I promise, if I’d seen the car running that light, I would have avoided causing you this pain.”

“Causing  _ me  _ pain?” Yuri laughs in spite of himself. “You’re the one in the hospital bed, asshole. Don’t go feeling sorry for me.”

“Ah, but if I don’t do that, I’ll have to feel sorry for myself,” Otabek says, with a sigh that is only partly exaggerated. “Poor me, lying in this hospital bed  _ all by myself.  _ And now, the first time I see my boyfriend in a month, and he hasn’t even kissed me yet.”

Yuri can’t help it; his mouth twitches into a grin. “Asshole,” he reiterates, and leans forward to bring their lips together. Otabek’s lips are swollen and Yuri tastes a hint of blood, but he doesn’t care. He only pulls away because kissing at this angle is awkward, and he doesn’t want to make any of Beka’s injuries  worse. “I should probably go, let you get some rest,” he says, even though that’s the last thing he wants. Since the list of things he wants includes ‘kissing every inch of Otabek’s skin, even the bruises’, he knows his own desires can’t be trusted.

But Otabek catches his hand when he tries to step away. “No. Please, Yura. Stay.”

Yuri blinks. “Are you sure? I doubt the hospital staff will like that, they didn’t want to let me in here at all. ‘Visiting hours’ or some bullshit like that.”

Otabek tugs him closer. “I’m sure. If they don’t want you here, they’ll have to drag you away, and I’m pretty sure they won’t.”

“And why is that?”

He smiles, and pats the space next to him on the bed. “If they have to carry you out kicking and screaming, they might accidentally hurt me worse. They won’t risk that.” He pats the space again. “Come on. I know you’re flexible enough to get there without jostling my ribs.”

“Flexible? You know I am.” Yuri is already taking his shoes off, eyeing the narrow space between Otabek and the wall. He can fit, even if the growth spurts of the last few years have filled him out. The trick is getting there without disturbing his boyfriend—but he’s a three-time figure skating World Champion. He’s not afraid of a challenge. He puts one foot on the edge of the bed, pushes off to slot the other between Otabek’s knees, and swings himself into the space by the wall. The bed shifts, and Otabek grunts, but he stretches his arm out to rest under Yuri’s shoulders.

“This is still pretty stupid,” Yuri says, when they’ve arranged themselves as best they can with all the monitors and tubes coming out of Otabek. “I’m sure you’d sleep better without me here.” He snuggles closer though, and lays a hand on Otabek’s leg since his chest is off-limits.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Otabek says, pressing a kiss to the top of Yuri’s head. “I’ve never been more comfortable in my life.” They grow quiet, letting the room fill with the sound of hospital machinery and Otabek’s heavy breathing. Just when Yuri thinks he’s fallen asleep, Otabek says, “Thank you, Yura. For coming.”

“Of course, Beka.” Yuri squeezes his knee, just a little bit. “And you’d better get used to having me around, because I’m not going home for a while.”

“But, practice—” It’s the off-season, but they both know that doesn’t keep Yuri off the ice.

“Screw practice. I can get a workout hauling groceries up the six flights of stairs to your place, or hauling  _ you  _ up and down the stairs if I have to. And I’m sure I can get access to the skating rink here, I know a guy who might have an in.”

“You know a guy?” Otabek’s voice grows softer. The pain medications must be doing their work.

“Yeah. He’s totally into me, thinks I’m hot stuff. And it’s a good thing he does, because I think  _ he’s _ hot, too. Usually. When he hasn’t been playing chicken with some asshole who can’t drive.”

“Sounds like...a real idiot...if he messed up his face so you don’t like him anymore.”

Yuri snorts. “I didn’t say I don’t like him.” He stretches up, lays a kiss on Otabek’s jaw. “I love him, actually, even when he looks like piece of dog meat that’s been chewed up and spit out.” At Otabek’s pained chuckle, he adds, “Now get some sleep, asshole. Plenty of time to fish for compliments later. You’re stuck with me.” Otabek does as he says. Eventually, Yuri joins him, worn out from travel and worry.

Neither of them wakes again until morning, when the hospital staff allow Otabek’s family into the room for visiting hours. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am a GIANT SAP but I don't care, give me all the comfort cuddles with these two! Apologies for any mistakes about hospital policy or infrastructure, I'm no medical professional.


End file.
